Tuesday, October 31, 2006


American Heritage Dictionary -
cre·pus·cu·lar /[kri-puhs-kyuh-ler]

1. Of or like twilight; dim: “the period's crepuscular charm and a waning of the intense francophilia that used to shape the art market” (Wall Street Journal).
2. Zoology. Becoming active at twilight or before sunrise, as do bats and certain insects and birds.

Doctor Time

Well, I get to go back to see my gastroenterologist, Dr. M. Last time I saw her was 3 months ago, and was NOT fun.
Now I get to go in and tell her that the drugs aren't working.
Who knows what evil meds she will give me next...

Friday, October 27, 2006


So I'm about to go outside and check the laundry.
There's this white towel that is just outside the back door, whose reflection through the glass looks almost like a snake.
I open the door, and there's...
a big white snake!
It's the cornsnake that got out back in MAY! Just lookin' up at me, like, "let me in! It's cold out here!"


He's incredibly healthy looking--a few new scars, including what looks like a bite mark, but otherwise perfectly okay!

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

The Food We Eat

It really says a lot about the food you're eating when you give the dog a *tiny* sliver of meat and she promptly pukes. Luckily the newspaper was there on the floor so I could hold her over it--burying the sex offenders article in a copious amount of I don't even want to describe it.
I've been slightly nauseous all day, and when ttk almost dropped the newspaper, he almost had a hell of a lot more mess to clean up.

Monday, October 16, 2006

Daisy 199?-2006

She's gone.
My vet gave her a small injection in her hip. She stopped her frantic, constant movements and relaxed into my hands. She licked her nose, yawned a few times, and then just kinda went to sleep. Truly, just to sleep. She was relaxed and no longer intensely desperate. I felt her little heart beating in my palm as the doctor went to get the syringe of drug that would stop her heart.
The first vein he tried was too hard to find. He tried the other leg. A backwash of blood into the syringe, and the clear pink drug slid into her system. Her heart beat steadily, then stopped. No flutter, no hesitation. Gone.
I thanked him, for being able to do that for her, for us.

We brought her little body home, so light now, and curled her up in her tiny bed that came with her when we adopted her so long ago. She loved that bed, and would prefer to curl up in it rather than snuggle in the copious amounts of bedding I had provided.
She hated all other ferrets in life, and would savage them while screaming at the top of her lungs, but in death she curled into the same tin with little Miranda.
When our first ferret died, we interred her in a metal tin
gaily colored with a christmas scene
since we wanted to bury her in our own land, and not some soon-to-be-forgotten rental. Her sister followed soon after, and fit next to her. When Fatboy died so suddenly, we found another tin
this one gold with fluer-de-lis on the top, both once held butter cookies but are somehow well suited to their new task
for him, and for Azrael when she passed.
We have three of these tins now, lined up in the front yard like some sort of eccentric art.
We know what's in there, why they're there, though others don't.
Tiny crypts.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Ahhh, technology!

How's this for good use of combined technology:

TTK calls an his cell phone and says traffic just went to a dead stop, in Novato.
I go to 511.org and pull up the map.
Downed powerlines and car accident, and brushfire blocking ALL northbound lanes...they "suggest alternate route" so I googlemap the nearest offramp for him, and figure out how to get him home (there's all of one other way and it goes waaaay east, but it's better than sitting in a parking lot for an hour.) from where he is.
I give him directions...he'll call me when he reaches Petaluma or is hopelessly lost (fingers crossed for the former!)...

Friday, October 6, 2006

interlude #145

conversation with my sister (her youngest just turned 1 last month)

Her: Owp! Hold on...
[running and small child googly noises in the background]

Her (picking up the phone, out of breath): Sorry! She headed into (her brother's) room...and he's asleep.

Me: She's toddling now?

Her, flatly: Toddling? NO. Not toddling: she's running. Full on, as fast as she can.


Thursday, October 5, 2006


I'm still at school, in the computer lab.
My brain is melting.
My final project isn't even close to being finished.
I have no color sense.

I take that back--I have a poor color sense.
I am trying to come up with a workable palette of colors for this damn website that I am creating, and everything is either boring as hell, or makes my eyes bleed.

And we're supposed to code it using tables, although tables as layout is old school. Can you say frustrating?
And as I am trying to do this, things that I can simply type up in code, I am searching all over the Dreamweaver program trying to find the button, lever, or switch that should insert said style directly into the page all easy and shit. The easy part is just typing it in, but since I am trying to learn this software, I am doing it the hard way: assuming I have very little hand-coding HTML skills.

OW, my brain.

What I really need, really really, more than an exercise class or a computer class, is a GOOD, ERGONOMIC work area!
This whole "end of the couch" thing has got to go--3 years of this, and my back is like broken tinker toys.

Ow, my brain.

Yes, I am repeating myself. You wanna see my lame project?
Well, too bad--I am not posting the link here until it's all done, so nyeah.

But, you can take a look at my origami page that was homework #4:

I'm going home, if I can find my car.

TTK, you want me to bring home a chicken?

Wednesday, October 4, 2006

Just Another Day at the Ranch

How many people do you know would be happy to have this happen:

I'm geeking, and I hear the neighbor call "Hellooo?".

I open the door, and Bob is standing at the gate, all grubby and gloved...

I open the gate, and he hands me...

a HUGE dead gopher.

"Here, I thought you might want to feed this to one of your critters."

Me--"Oh, Thank you! Man! That's the KING gopher!"

Him: "Yeah, it's been eating well. Too well."


I don't know which was more weird: that my neighbor knew me well
enough to present me with a corpse, or that I was pleased about it....